Life's Worth Living
by Alive At Last
Summary: WSOTT September Rumble entry. More INFO inside.


**Life's Worth Living**

Written for the WSOTT September challenge, the prompt was;  
_"__Sometimes in life, we learn things outside of school that are much more important or even just much more fun than anything learned in the classroom. And usually, they stick with us a lot longer."_  
and here's my entry.

* * *

My life laid ahead of me, in the bright, the light, within grasp. I wanted to reach out for it, with the people supporting me behind me each step of the way. My father with his grasp on my shoulder, whispering, "We're so proud." I could feel I was glowing. My hat sat awkwardly on my head, tilted to the side and the string, which I never found out the name, in my eyes. It was black.

I think Two-Bit bounced a ball off of it at one point.

So, glad I didn't wait for too long, my name was called. Darrel Shayne Curtis. It sounded good. I stood up and walked proudly towards the stage and walked up the few stairs. Out to the podium, where the principal stood with the rolled paper out towards me, I closed the space between us. I grabbed the paper, turning my head to the audience with a grin.

I think Steve and Soda began to whoop. Dallas might of joined in a some point.

Then there was a flash of a camera, and everything changed.

My outfit was still black, just tighter and complete with slick black shoes, pants, and a slender tie. Only on my face wasn't a smile, but just the opposite. A low frown. Ponyboy and Sodapop were crying, holding onto each other in grips as if the world would break in half if they did. And I had my fists in my pockets, balled and tight; if I was looking at them, the knuckles would be white. Two-Bit's grin was also gone, and his eyes were clouded and looked black. Steve, his hair slicked back and looking neat, also was clouded in sorrow. Johnny and Dallas stood close to one another, and for once, Dallas wore a tired, anguished look.

We approached the caskets together, the seven of us, and peered in. Soda only wept harder, making Pony cry. Steve led them into the hallway to calm them down. I patted Two-Bit's shoulder; I could feel his shoulders quivering, but there were no tears. Dally didn't change. Johnny also left the room.

It ended quick, and we all headed home. It was late, so Soda dragged Pony to the bed, Steve claimed the couch, and Johnny took the floor. I sat in the kitchen, holding a beer in my grasp and staring at the rim. Dally shared my company. The brown liquid was sitting idly in the bottom of the glass. I swished it in a circular motion, almost hypnotic.

Then it hit me. I'm the adult in the house. The one to protect my brothers. The bottle slid away from me; Dally gave me a confused glance. "What is it?" he asked, sipping his own beer.

"I can't do this anymore... I can't drink anymore."

"I know you're hurting, but..."

"No. I'm the only one left for my brothers. I can't be drinking anymore, I can't be running wild, I... have to set an example."

Dallas said nothing, but the look in his eyes told me that he understood was I was saying. Sure, he was a hood fresh from New York, but he wasn't dumb. He took another drink.

"They never taught you this in school, did they?"

"But I wish they did."

So there I sat, on the couch a few months later with a mountain of bills crowding my lap and parts of the couch. Water bill, gas, electricity, a bill from when my old truck died and had to be taken to the shop. Steve gave me a 'discount', so I hoped it went through well with the manager. I couldn't believe I let them stack up like this.

Right when I tore open the first one, water bill, Soda and Steve tore through the living room, taking flying leaps onto the couch, making the bills fly in different directions. "Darrryy!" Soda cooed. "We need another player."

I knew they were talking about football, but I wasn't in the mood.

"I can't," I said. "I have to pay bills, and do all this shit..." I trailed off.

Soda pouted. I couldn't stand it when he pouted; most of the time I gave in. But I needed to pay the bills. "But it's Johnny, Pony, and Two-Bit against Dallas, me and Stevie."

"That sounds fair."

"Pony and Johnnycake counts as one," Steve put in, picking a bill and tearing the end off of it. "Looks like the boss-man gave you a discount."

I snatched the letter from Steve. "Thanks for that."

They got up and strolled out of the house, leaving me in silence once more and letting me continue with my bills...

...for a split second.

Two-Bit slammed the door open. "Darrel Curtis, you get your white little ass out there and play football," he ordered in a somewhat serious tone. But his grin didn't help much with the intimidation. So he moved closer and clamped his hands together while lowering to one knee in front of me. "Please, my darling?" he asked in a more tender voice.

I waved a bill in his face, "Bills. Once you get a house, you'll learn that you can't play football all day and that sometimes you need to sit back and pay a few of these."

At this point, he grabbed my hand and laced his with mine. That boy needs help.

"But, baby... they need you out there!"

I took my hand back. Best thing to do at a moment like this was to ignore him; if he didn't get the attention he wanted, he'd leave.

And he did just that.

"Back to the water bill," I told myself. So I got down to it. Math was always my better subject, and if the gang would give me time, I could whip through these and get out there.

But then my mind wandered. It wandered back to a few months in the past, when we were playing football on a similar day like today. Our parents were watching from the porch, cheering. So I thought of how their lives were cut down quicker than anyone ever expected. None of the gang could predict it, nor could I.

Then I thought; Why be so hard? Why try to get the important things done while missing out on the rest of life itself. After all, all the responsibilities were thrust upon my shoulders, cutting out my chances of college and my chances of a normal life.

I realized I had put down the mountain of bills and stood up near the door.

Something ran across my mind; Why not put off the bills for a little longer and go have a little fun? It's just a couple of hours.

And as I tackled Steve out of Two-Bit's way as he passed the ball to Ponyboy, I realized that school never taught me the real meaning of working hard.

The most they taught me to do was to succeed. They never taught me that you don't always have to think the proper, academic way with everything, and that it's okay to goof off, and to goof up, once an a while.

I'm sure glad they didn't teach me that. That's something I needed to learn on my own.


End file.
